Guarded Masterwork

Chapter Two

 "My boss says I have potential." Harry turned away from his mirror, facing Trish, lightly wrestling a confused Will as the boy remained stationary underneath his babysitter. "Jesus, Trisha, stop harassing my son, he's not a dog you can roughhouse with. He's three!"

"I'm helping him build his character." However, while the blonde had her guard down and thought she had the upper hand as she put him in an insecure lock, William grabbed his foot, stretching, and then, let it go, kicking his opponent, in the side of her right cheek. "Shi-!"

"-Itake mushrooms!" Harry saved, messing up his tie to save his child's innocent eyes from the tantalizing she devil that is Trisha Matthews. "Really? If you're not ready to lose, don't start a match." And with that, the curly haired man turned to restart his tie for the third time, making eye contact with the blonde on his bed, muttering, "You got beat by a three year old," before finishing off his look.

A quick glance to the clock caused Harry to jump when the time read nearly ten minutes later than it should have, and he quickly pecked the two heads on his bed. "Okay, I need to go, but thank you so much Trish, I owe you. I promise, I'll find a sitter soon. Even though you're terrible with basic child care." And before he gave the woman a chance to defend herself, Harry ran down the stairs to say farewell to his best mate. The dog's excitement grew as he heard his bud's rushed footsteps, and once Harry was in reach, he leapt for his shoulders as Harry returned the hug with a tight squeeze. He nudged the large pup off him, grabbed the lint roller from the kitchen table, and ran for his car.

The screeching of Harry's wheels made him wince at the expensive sound. He doesn't think he can afford new tires if he keeps having to rush to work, he really needs to start leaving on time, but he knows that will never happen.

The man slams his door shut and almost trips while searching for his keys to lock it. Harry was lanky, tall, and had about as much stability as a newborn giraffe.

He couldn't let his boss know that though, he's supposed to be intimidating. People will be tempted to steal if they find out he's as pure as a cherub. He can certainly protect the artwork and the people inside, but he'd much rather avoid conflict if he can help it.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Almost bursting through the doors, Harry's boss looks up and laughs at the his frantic employee with slight sweat marks on his buttondown that show when he lifts his arms.

"Harry, you're three minutes late. You're fine, don't even worry about it." Mr. Van der Pol assured the security guard. Still stressed and wild-eyed, Harry gulps and turns to clock in before putting his lunch in the communal fridge and going to his post by the front door. With long hair hanging down and his hands locked behind his back, Harry gets ready to welcome anyone coming in and farewelling anyone going out.

When he first heard of the job opening as a security guard for an art gallery, he didn't know what to expect. He mostly thought he'd be chasing thieves and gunmen, but he's stuck standing on the inside of a rather heavy door, only imagining those wild scenarios.

Through his time working, the father was still adjusting. He's finally managed to buy himself a lint roller, and only has a medium sized knot in his tie. It has only been a week, but he's trying his best to adjust to his new schedule. He regrets not being able to be around his son all day and every day, but he's certainly making time at night to spend any moment he can with Will.

Harry's learning the ropes of his new job as a security guard for the art gallery in Boulder. He needed to recognize each work for any questions he may be asked. He doesn't necessarily understand the artwork, nor does he care much for it, but he's trying to grasp the concept.